This Is Our Love Song

by Ryan Loveless

  She wrinkled her nose. “What’s GLBT?”

  “It means gay, Nia,” another girl, who seemed annoyed and eager to dance again, interjected.

  “Nia, if I hear that coming out of this room again, I’m shutting the music down. Understand?” Travis said.

  She sighed. “Fine.” During the conversation, Sheppard had been browsing YouTube. Every move he made on the computer appeared on the big screen. He started “Work It.”

  “Is this okay?” Nia asked. She sounded ready to offer another challenge.

  “This is perfect,” Travis said. Nia grinned at him, and the girls began to dance again. Travis backed out of the doorway.

  “Sorry about that,” he said to us. “Come on. I want to show you the recording studio.” He walked ahead of us. I started to follow, then realized Declan was lagging behind, staring through the window.

  “We don’t let the boys peep the girls while they’re dancing, Declan,” Travis said. “That’s why they’re all in the other end of the teen center.”

  “What about the boy that’s in there now?” Declan asked.

  “I mean we don’t allow the boys to put their noses against the window and stare. Sheppard is DJing for the dance program. If a boy wanted to go in and dance, he could.”

  “Oh,” Declan said.

  “So come on.” As we passed a small circulation desk, he stopped again. “Mr. Jean”—Travis pronounced it the French way—“I want you to meet some people.”

  Mr. Jean got up from the cramped desk. He looked young, early twenties or less. If not for his tie, I would have mistaken him for one of the teens. “This is my friend Keelin and his nephew Declan. Jean is our youth counselor.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said. Jean shook my hand and glanced at Travis with undisguised bemusement.

  “Keelin, huh?” Jean said. “So you’re him.”

  “Uh, yeah?” I said. I wasn’t sure what was going on.

  “Anyway,” Travis said, “come on over here and I’ll show you our setup—” I glanced over my shoulder as Travis put his arm around me to steer me away from Jean, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jean giving Travis an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

  Declan mouthed “oh my God” at me. I just grinned.

  “I take it I’ve been the subject of some gossip around here?” I asked.

  “It’s not gossip if it’s true,” Travis said. “And I promise everything I’ve said about you has been true.” He pushed open a door into a small recording studio, which was split into an engineering side and a sound booth with a microphone and music stand. From the inside, we were at the back of the room where the girls danced, and another window looked into it. There was also a door that opened directly into that room.

  In the darkness, I squeezed Travis’s hand. “So what have you said about me?”

  “Just that you’re nice. And cute. And I’m starting to really like you.”

  “Ugh,” Declan groaned. Travis let go of my hand and chuckled.

  “I like you too,” I said. “So show me what you’ve got here. Do the kids record?”

  “Some of them. We used to have a sound engineer, but we don’t currently. I let a few kids in who he trained. The rest we don’t—oh, hey, don’t touch.” Travis put his hand out to stop Declan, who had started sliding knobs on the soundboard.

  “I know what I’m doing,” Declan said.

  “He pretty much grew up in studios,” I said. Then to Declan, I added, “But ask first, okay, Dec?”

  He grimaced but nodded. Someone knocked on the window. We turned to see one of the girls pressed up to the glass. “Nia wants to know who the new boy is,” she shouted.

  “Tell Nia to mind her business,” Travis shouted back.

  The girl looked disgruntled and retreated. She conferred with the other girls and returned a moment later. “Nia wants to know if the new boy wants to come dance.”

  Declan looked at me and half shrugged. It was the most enthusiasm I’d seen from him all day. “He’d love to,” I said to Travis.

  “Tell Nia she can come ask him herself,” Travis yelled. The girl left again, and finally Nia came forward. She pointed at Declan, pointed to herself, and then stared at Travis as she did a parody of the Mashed Potato dance popular in the 1960s.

  “You want to go?” Travis asked Declan.

  “Yeah, all right,” he said. Travis opened the door and let him exit into the room.

  “He seems like a good kid,” Travis said.

  “You can tell that from five syllables?” I asked.

  Travis smiled. “I’ve been working with teens a long time. I can usually tell from fewer.” He grabbed a rolling chair from next to the soundboard and pulled another out of the sound booth. We pushed them both up to the window.

  “I have to say, I am really impressed with how you interact with the kids. You’ve got a great balance with them.”

  “It’s what I aim for,” Travis said. “They’re all good kids. Some of them just have a little more room for improvement. But that’s why we’re all here, to give them a nudge in that direction. Nia, last year, wasn’t even talking. She spent all her time cussing us out and throwing tantrums. She’s come a long way.” We watched for a few seconds as Declan stepped in line and joined the dancing.

  “Your boy’s got some moves,” Travis said.

  “He should, considering his paternity, although his dad isn’t much of a dancer.”

  “Who’s his dad?”

  I froze. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything, but it seemed stupid. It wasn’t a state secret who Declan’s father was. “It’s, uh, he’s Paeder Brogan’s son.”

  When Travis didn’t respond immediately, my mind raced, thinking of what he might say. Why does he call you uncle? Why do you call him nephew? Why did he turn up on your doorstep in the middle of the night?

  “Oh yeah, you mentioned his name at dinner. I don’t know why I didn’t make that connection. So Paeder can’t dance?” Travis said. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

  I grinned with relief. “So, who’s here today who can sing? Anyone who’d like to use the studio?” I asked.

  “I can think of three. Do you think we can get Declan back from the girls before he makes a link?” Travis asked. “I’d love to see what he can do with the engineering aspect.”

  “A link?” I asked.

  “It’s what the kids call getting together, like dating.”

  “Trust me. It’s not likely he’ll be doing that with any girls.”

  “Gay?”

  I nodded. “It’s why he called me. He wanted to talk about it, and I seemed like the best person to him.” Geez, could I sugarcoat it any more?

  “I noticed he has an accent. Does he live in Ireland?”

  I wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything, but I nodded.

  “Who’s he here with?”

  “His dad.”

  This time when Travis stayed silent, I didn’t worry.

  “So what I’m getting out of this is that Declan is gay, he doesn’t feel he can talk to his dad about it, but he’s in a situation that makes his need to talk about it so urgent that he turned up at your front door in the middle of the night.”

  I blinked. “Are you magic?”

  Travis continued, “Keelin, is he in a safe situation?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I mean is there any danger that you can anticipate from Paeder? I mean does Declan seem depressed?”

  My mind reeled as one hundred terrible scenarios presented themselves. “No, no. I talked to Paeder today. He’s not happy with Declan being gay, but he’s willing to let me handle those conversations. He loves Declan.”

  “And depression?”

  “I don’t know—he showed up drunk last night. He said some stuff, but it wasn’t…. He mainly wanted a hug, you know? Some reassurance.”

  “Of what?”

  I glanced out the window again. Declan was smiling and laughing. My heart jumped. “That I hadn’t aband
oned him when I left Ireland. That I still loved him, I guess.”

  “You gave him that reassurance?”

  I nodded.

  Travis squeezed my hand. “Good.”

  “You are scarily good at this,” I said.

  He smiled. “Thank you. You know, he’s welcome to come here whenever he’s in town. We’ll work with him the same as the other kids.”

  “I’ll let him know.”

  Travis smiled. “Don’t tell him the ‘work with him’ part. We like to do that on the down-low. Most kids don’t even realize what’s going on until they find themselves having full-fledged conversations about their feelings.”

  As I watched Declan through the window, I made a decision. I couldn’t start my relationship with Travis with this secret hanging over us. It wouldn’t be fair. “Look, there’s something I think you should know, but I need you to keep it to yourself.”

  “You trust me?” Travis smiled.

  “Paeder’s my ex. We dated off and on for several years. Mainly on. He’s the first person I ever loved.”

  Travis blinked. “Wow. Okay. So, when Declan calls you ‘uncle,’ he means it.”

  I nodded. “Declan doesn’t know, in case you’re wondering. Paeder is very much in the closet.”

  “Okay. Declan know about Paeder’s sexuality at all?” Travis asked.

  “I don’t think so. He just thinks Paeder’s homophobic.”

  “Okay. I won’t say anything. Thank you for telling me.”

  I grinned. “Thanks for being good about it. Can we get some kids in here now?”

  Travis stood up. “Absolutely.” He opened the door and called a boy in. I spent the next hour coaching him and then two other boys on their vocals. Travis summoned Declan to run the soundboard. Nia and the girls watched through the window until Travis yelled at them to go back to dancing. He stayed in the engineering room with Declan while I worked with the boys in the sound booth.

  The boy I was working with gave me a scant glance. “You’re Mr. T’s boyfriend?”

  “Today I’m your vocal coach.”

  “Yeah, but tonight….” He gyrated his hips and made a show of licking his lips. Before I could respond, Travis yanked the booth door open.

  “Christopher, go home until you learn to talk to people.”

  “I didn’t say anything!” Christopher protested.

  “What’s the number one rule?” Travis asked.

  “Mind your business,” Christopher mumbled. He slouched toward the door.

  “You want to say something to Mr. Keelin first?”

  “Sorry, Mr. Keelin.”

  “That’s all right,” I said.

  “Go home,” Travis said. Christopher trudged out.

  “You sent him home for that?”

  Travis turned his no-nonsense expression on me. A little thrill ran up my spine. I pushed down my hope that he’d do an encore for me tonight. “Yeah, I sent him home for that. Send them home often enough and they start to learn. Everything has consequences.”

  I nodded. I’d learned that lesson a few times myself. “So who’s next?”

  Travis squeezed my hip as he moved past me to open the studio door. “Jaeden! You’re up!”

  Chapter Eight

  AT THE weekend, I invited Travis home with me. We both needed the break. I’d been back to the teen center a few times and seen how hard Travis worked. Most days I had Declan with me. He’d made a few friends, and Paeder even said he looked better.

  “Is anyone else here?” Travis asked as he stepped into my house.

  “We are home alone,” I said.

  Nodding like he’d made an important decision, Travis looked at me with determination. “Bed. Two seconds.”

  I ran. He sprinted after me, laughing. I felt no inhibitions as I burst through my bedroom door with Travis’s hands already on me.

  “I love it when you’re like this,” I said.

  “I’d rather we be like this.” He put his arm around me and tumbled us both onto the bed. I fumbled his fly open and found his dick, fast. He stripped me of my cut-off sweats, leaving me bare. Our fists clashed as we bumped together. Opening his hand over mine, Travis worked his thumb beneath my palm, and suddenly our cocks touched. We lay on our sides, each with an arm beneath the other’s head. As I gazed into his eyes, Travis bit his lip and smiled with stupefied satisfaction.

  He recovered enough to squeeze my erection against his, still using my hand as I became a happy, obedient puppet to everything he wanted to do. I licked a drop of sweat from beneath his collarbone and gently sucked the area until he gasped. “Like. Yes. Keep.”

  I had no control of my hips. The lower half of my body wriggled and writhed, hell-bent on getting closer to him as he drew me nearer to falling over the edge with not only his touch but also his voice, the half words, fragmented sentences, and caught moans. But with my mouth—I wanted to nip, kiss, and lick every drop of moisture off his skin, and I set about it with pristine clarity. I wanted him to crash over pleasure’s peak with me, for both of us to go down together and experience the fall as one.

  “Keelin…. Key…. Key…. Kio!” Come spurted between us. I didn’t know if it was his or just mine until I felt his heart racing as I gasped for breath.

  “Never,” I said between lungfuls of air, “has anyone called me Kio in that context before.”

  “Hope I didn’t ruin it for you,” he said.

  “On the contrary.” I rolled onto my back. Travis went the other direction. Now our come-covered hands were the only connection point between us.

  I stared at the textured ceiling and thought about wanting Travis. And now he was here with me and I could touch him however I liked.

  “What are you smiling at?” he asked.

  “You.”

  He smiled back. “Okay.” Moving his arm to nestle me against him, he kissed my forehead. “I really like you.”

  “I really like you too.”

  “I’m never going to hear the end of this from Jordana. You know that, right? She’s going to take credit for getting us together until the end of time.”

  I chuckled. “I’m all right with that.”

  Travis shifted his arm to adjust how I was lying on it. “You’re coming to the wedding, right? As my date?”

  I traced the underside of his forearm. “Actually, Jordana already invited me, but yes, I would love to go as your date.”

  “Good.” He sounded so satisfied that I couldn’t resist nibbling his ear.

  Chapter Nine

  THE NEXT few weeks flew by. I finished up all my classes for the semester and lost myself under a week of grading and conferences with my advisees. Paeder and Declan returned to Ireland with Paeder’s secret still secure and their relationship intact. Travis’s work kept him busy too, but we spent as much time as we could together, even if all we had the energy for was watching television and eating takeout. Finally, on the wedding day, I woke up with “Get Me to the Church on Time” in my head and an empty bed. I lay on my side groggily, trying to remember if I’d sensed Travis leaving. Eventually the scent of bacon reached my nose, and I got up to follow it.

  I found Travis in the kitchen, wearing my Rosie the Riveter apron and nothing else.

  “That’s a dangerous way to cook with grease,” I said.

  “My jewels are covered. Sit down and have some orange juice.”

  “I have orange juice?” I asked as I took a stool at the breakfast bar.

  “I went for a run and picked some up.”

  “Of course you did.” Looking at him closer, I saw he was still dripping wet from his postrun shower. From my vantage point, I admired the rear view.

  “Don’t get any ideas. I have to be at the church early. Oh, can I borrow a clean shirt before I run home and change?”

  “Sure. Do you want a drawer so you can leave some stuff here instead of running back and forth, getting your clothes wrinkly in that duffel bag you carry?”

  Travis craned his neck to look
at me. “A drawer? That’s pretty serious, isn’t it?”

  “It’s practical. You need a place for your things. You spend enough time here. You should have a toothbrush here too.”

  “That’s serious,” he repeated.

  “It’s, like, two feet by two feet.”

  He hummed and returned to his bacon, leaving me to think that somehow we’d landed on different pages. I decided to drop the subject. Let him deal with the drawer if he wanted to. Never mind that I’d thought we were getting serious. I didn’t think we needed a drawer to establish that.

  “You’re really over Paeder?” Travis asked.

  “Did anything happen in the last couple weeks that made you think I wasn’t?”

  “No, but you and Declan are so close. If he needs you again—”

  “I’ll be there for him. Travis, Paeder’s always going to be a part of my life for a lot of reasons, but I don’t love him anymore.”

  “No?”

  “I love you.”

  Travis handed me a plate of eggs and bacon, mumbled something about needing to go, and shot out of the kitchen like I was holding a hot iron to his ass.

  What the hell had just happened?

  AT THE wedding reception, things did not improve. It seemed like Travis made every effort to avoid me. He stayed at the wedding party table long after everyone else had separated, but when I approached, he suddenly needed to be somewhere else. I finally couldn’t take it anymore and cornered him in the hotel lobby outside the ballroom, where he’d gone to pretend to smoke or something. By that point the excuses were so lame he could have claimed to be a superhero changing into his secret identity.

  “Did you forget how to speak?” I asked.

  Travis stared at me. His jaw popped open.

  “To communicate? Like an adult? What’s freaking you out? Is it that I offered you a place to store your things and you read too much into it, or is it that I said I loved you?” Yeah, I was pissed. Malik and Jordana had a beautiful wedding. Travis had given a wonderful speech. People had applauded when Jordana sang. And I’d spent the whole damn afternoon worrying that I’d lost Travis. I looked at him, stone-faced, waiting for his explanation.